Page 35 of Laird of Twilight
Finally she sensed a change in the air. A glance through her lashes showed the riders fading into mist. The man riding with the women looked back—looked familiar to her, though she could not think why. Then he vanished.
Soon you will be with us, Eilidh,came an echo on the wind.
She could not follow them, though she had felt their power, though she knew now that her grandfather had been right after all. They did exist, if she could trust what she had just seen. And they wanted to take her away, just as Grandda had said.
But in the snug circle of James’s arms, she felt safe. Loved, if only for this moment. Real or not, she wanted that feeling to last.
The mist and the chime of bells faded, leaving drizzle and fog. The danger had passed. James was saved; they had saved each other. When as he wrapped her in his arms now, she did not want to move, though she knew they should flee. Kisses resumed, fervent and hungry and endless, the rain wet her face, slicked her hair, her hands, their lips in a slippy, delicious blend. She knew only this, the rain, the caresses, her need for him.
“Hold me,” she whispered, pressing against him. “Hold fast, never let go—”
He groaned low against her lips, tightening his arms around her. Sliding her hands under his coat and waistcoat, finding the fabric of his shirt with her chilled fingers, she pulled, starving to feel skin, craving wildness. His hands slipped down her arms, over her hips, up again, creasing the damp nightgown, finding her breast. She drew in a breath at the sweet shock of his touch.
They turned slowly, dance-like, his fingers cradling and teasing as she found his mouth again in a deep kiss. His tongue glided to touch hers, fingers finding her breasts, their tips. Her knees wanted to fold—she sank to the soft, wet grass, feeling a different sort of thrall taking her over now. He dropped with her to the grass in the darkness, and now she did not want to flee, not yet, wanted only to be here with him, anticipating, her heart beating hard.
Pressed close, chest to breast, she felt his desire for her too, hard and sure against her. The mist thickened, hiding and suspending them in a place without time, filled with kiss and caress, and pulsing heartbeats. As he touched her, she gasped, arching, wanting to be even closer, hungry for more. She tugged at his coat, his clothing, shaped her hands over his broad chest and shoulders as he pulled her deeper into his arms. Breathing fast as he did, she rocked her hips against him, intimate, daring, pleading. Here, now, this, she wanted to say.
His lips touched soft at her ear, and she moaned as his head dipped downward, hands rucking the damp fabric of the nightgown. As his lips found her breast, pearled it, she moaned, let him slide his hand downward, slipping, teasing until the pressure and the wanting took her breath away. She shaped her fingers over him now, cloth between them, feeling heat, steely solidity there—when he groaned soft against her lips, she felt wanton, willful, felt a freedom that she did not want to deny. Suddenly she knew full well what she was allowing, knew what they both wanted. When he paused, a question, she pushed forward in answer.
His breath was ragged on her lips, and he drew his hands upward, away. Air kissed her skin, her face. Shifting, he angled on an elbow, pushed her rain-slicked hair back from her brow.
“Dear God,” he rasped, “what is this—wildness between us?”
“Wildness of a fairy night,” she whispered, and kissed his hand, where it rested on her cheek. And knew at that moment this was more than fairy magic, imagined or real. She had given him her heart, her pledge, though she might never see him again after this wild night.
Love,the word came to her. Could it be so? Quick as that, simple and certain? She could be impulsive and direct, sometimes a flaw. But this felt true, even if he did not—
“Not here, not like this.” James got to his feet and took her hand to pull her up beside him. “Not like this, savage in a garden. In a storm. My God,” he said, taking her shoulders, pulling her close for a moment. “Wildness on a fairy night. After this, I could almost believe in fairies.”
“Did you see them?” she whispered. “Did you see?”
“Who?” He pulled back, glanced about.
“TheSidhe,” she whispered. “The Good Folk. They were here. Just here.”
He stared down at her. “Was that the whisky, or a fright in the storm? Or did I—frighten you, confuse you? I blame myself. I am so sorry—”
“I am not frightened. You saw them, I know you did. They rode past us. The Seelie Court. They wanted us to come with them.”
“Best get you inside.” He lifted the plaid, draped it over her shoulders, turned with her toward the house. “On such a night, we can imagine all manner of things.”
“You must have seen something.”
“I saw you, my girl. And could not—help myself.” He put an arm around her. “It’s coming down in a torrent again. Come away, Elspeth.”
She hastened with him toward the house, noticing that her ankle hurt fiercely once again. The pain had stopped earlier, she realized. The halt in James’s gait had returned too. It had disappeared earlier, when he ran for her as the fairy riders approached.
Spotting his discarded cane, she stooped to pick it up. He took it, and they hurried for the kitchen door, shaking off the rain as they came inside, the dogs bounding around them. In the dark, dry corridor, she touched his arm.
“Tell me truly—what did you see out there?”
Brushing rain from his hair, he hesitated. His hair was thick, dark, curling with the wet. He looked windswept and handsome, daring and strong. That power and disarray in this regulated and cautious man wrenched at her heart—for suddenly she knew that this was natural to him, even more than the order and intellectualism he strived to maintain.
“I saw a good deal of rain,” he said calmly, casually. “The trees were bending a good deal. I will need to look for damage in the daylight. The horses are fine, thankfully. I visited the stable before you—before you came outside.”
She blew out a breath, disappointed. “Nothing more?”
He touched her cheek. “I saw a lovely woman,” he murmured.
